


to have and to hold

by andnowforyaya



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Knotting, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, but not in a sexy way even though lydia is very sexy, fluff crept in, lydia crept in too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-14
Updated: 2013-07-14
Packaged: 2017-12-20 04:22:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/882892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andnowforyaya/pseuds/andnowforyaya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Stiles came to, Derek was still inside him. He tried to shift his legs but found he was pinned to the sticky mattress underneath his belly.</p><p>"Shh," Derek breathed against the back of his neck, sending shivers down Stiles’ spine. His body was strung up and oversensitive from coming before he had blacked out, and Derek was still pumping his hips minutely into Stiles’ slick heat, his knot keeping them tied together.</p><p>"Holy shit," Stiles hissed. “Is that—? Is it still <em>growing</em>?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	to have and to hold

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MajorAccent](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MajorAccent/gifts).



> I had to write something that was not the unhappy, issue-laden Sterek-ish that I'm currently working on, so this is what came out of it. 
> 
> Also HAPPY BIRTHDAY AGAIN TO THE LOVELY Lana. This one's for you.

When Stiles came to, Derek was still inside him. He tried to shift his legs but found he was pinned to the sticky mattress underneath his belly.

"Shh," Derek breathed against the back of his neck, sending shivers down Stiles’ spine. His body was strung up and oversensitive from coming before he had blacked out, and Derek was still pumping his hips minutely into Stiles’ slick heat, his knot keeping them tied together.

"Holy shit," Stiles hissed. “Is that—? Is it still  _growing_?"

"You passed out before it got good," Derek bit out, chest pressed against Stiles’ back.

Stiles whined, tilting his own hips, the whine turning into a gasp that was wrenched out of him as Derek’s knot grew and filled him and set his insides on fire. Above him, Derek’s fingers threaded through his short hair, coaxing him to breathe through it, to relax.

"I’m relaxed," Stiles complained. “I’m really fucking relaxed. If you pulled out now you could fuck me with your fist, Derek."

Derek punched his hips forward, pulling a cry out of Stiles, and the feeling was almost too much to bear. He felt like he was being ripped apart and put back together over and over again, each time Derek shivered.

"Don’t fucking try it,  _now_ ," Stiles grit.

Derek laughed into his hair, nosing behind his ear. Stiles swatted at him, returning the laugh, which quickly turned into a gasp.

"Oh, god. Oh, ow, ow, ow. That's pulling on something," he wheezed, breath hitching. He couldn't seem to close his mouth - and his breath was hot and fast. Derek stilled, worried, freeing his hand from the sheets when Stiles reached behind himself blindly, groping for Derek's fingers. Derek clasped that hand in his and brought it back down to the bed, lowering himself again just as slowly. Maybe they could lie like this for a while longer, while his seed filled Stiles up until he was leaking come. Stiles made a noise of discomfort, so Derek shifted until he felt Stiles gasp again, his body twitching against him, pushing back.

"Just lie still," Derek said against his skin. He licked a stripe up Stiles' neck and sucked on the skin he had marked. He could feel how much Stiles wanted to squirm, how much he needed to move into the kiss, how much he couldn't. The knot was swelling, holding them both in place, and Stiles was reaching his limit. Derek could smell added salt in the air that was not from their mingling sweat. 

Stiles was crying.

"Are you--?" The behavior was so absurd that Derek reacted without thought, tried to pull up and away, wanted to turn Stiles over. He almost moved - almost - before Stiles yelped, body bow-string tight.

"Don't you fucking dare," Stiles mumbled into the pillow. "That is  _not going anywhere_."

"Are you hurt?" He was afraid for Stiles, afraid that Stiles was being hurt by his monstrous cock. It had taken months of taking their relationship to the next level for this to even happen, and even then Derek hadn't been the one to suggest it. 

No.  _Stiles_ had asked  _Derek_ to let him take the knot.

No answer. 

"Stiles," Derek grit through his teeth, needing an answer. He thought his knot had stopped swelling. He was hot and shaky all over, and it felt like one simple touch could send him over the edge again and again; he could feel where his dick met Stiles' inner walls, where he was pushing against them, slick and heavy and foreign, could feel a slight ripple every time Stiles breathed. It was  _heavenly_ , to be surrounded by all that heat.

"It doesn't hurt," Stiles insisted. "It doesn't hurt, it doesn't hurt."

But the tears were still coming, staining the pillowcase where they landed. He wanted desperately to turn them both over, to find a more comfortable position. "I'm going to move you," Derek said gently, earning a preemptive hiss from Stiles in response. "Slowly," he added.

Stiles nodded into the pillow.

So very slowly, Derek hooked his elbow behind the back of one of Stiles' knees, and then he pushed that leg up until it was crooked and bent to one side, Stiles still lying nearly flat on his stomach. They'd worked so very hard on his flexibility, too. 

Then, he pushed in, just a little bit more.

Stiles keened.

"Shh, shh, shh," Derek soothed, running his free hand up and down Stiles' side.

"Ah,  _ah_ ," Stiles groaned, long and drawn out and threatening to end in a sob. "It's so fucking big, Derek. Oh my god.  _Holy shit_."

"It's done," Derek said, still soothing, still petting. "You took it," he continued, amazement beginning to color his words. "You took my knot, Stiles. So well. So good for me. How do you feel?"

Stiles twitched. "Ah," he moaned again. "Like I'm gonna come," he said. "But don't let me. Don't let me right now because if you do, oh my god is that going to hurt."

When the swelling went down a little, when Stiles coming around him wouldn't rip Stiles apart, Derek would take care of him. "Okay," he promised, placing a kiss onto Stiles' shoulder. He was still pumping come into Stiles' ass, and could feel it now cooling underneath them both. They would never be able to use these sheets again, Derek thought.

After a while, the swelling began to go down. By then Stiles was lost in some hazy euphoria, so stimulated and needy that it took Derek three tries of calling his name before Stiles could answer him.

"I'm going to move again," he said the fourth time, and Stiles nodded shakily.

Slowly Derek lifted himself up, placing his hands on Stiles' hips. He brought Stiles' hips up with him, again just as slowly, until Stiles was on his knees, his chest pressed against the mattress, and Derek was behind him, finally beginning to pull out. There was a mess of come and lube between them, and when he pulled back enough, he could see, finally, where Stiles was stretched wide and red around him. His fingers fluttered over the tight skin there, and Stiles exhaled, nearly vibrating with it. He pumped his hips once, excruciatingly slow, to get a feel for it again, Stiles humming into the friction.

Stiles' mouth formed a small 'o', and he made little hitching noises as Derek pumped his hips again, and again, faster and faster. He was still coming down, losing his knot, and as he fucked into Stiles it became easier, until there was barely any resistance there. 

And Stiles was pliant, sighing and gasping and taking whatever Derek was giving him, until Derek reached around and fit a callous hand over Stiles' dick, giving it a tug. Then Stiles was mewling.

He was hard, so achingly hard, and Derek kept his fingers around him as he thrust into Stiles, helping him pump into his hand. " _Ah_ ," Stiles said again, finally. "Ah, I'm gonna--"

"Do it," Derek ordered. "You've done everything you were supposed to do, so well, so good. Come on, Stiles."

When Stiles came it was like the universe was crashing down around Derek, Stiles' cry in his ears and his hole fluttering around him, tightening beautifully as Derek thrust fast into him, determined to help Stiles ride it out, to draw it out. When Stiles came down from it he was gasping, and he collapsed into the dirtied sheets face first, his arms unable to hold himself up. The last thing Stiles said was, "Now you've made me black out twice in one night."

There wasn't much left to do after that. Derek's cock softened when they slept. In the morning before Stiles woke he cleaned him up, checked Stiles for damage and found none that would be lasting, but he was red and puffy and well-used. Derek carried him to the couch instead of letting them sleep for much longer in the dried evidence of their sex. It was good.

.

The second time he woke, everything was different, and yet all the same. They were spooning on the couch, a throw draped over their tangled legs, and Stiles was lightly snoring. It could have been any morning, but it wasn't.

Derek smiled. He hid the smile against Stiles' neck, happy in a way that he hadn't been in a long time, because last night was--

Last night was pretty amazing.

He kissed the juncture of Stiles' neck and shoulder and nuzzled him there, sleepy and sated and...stirring.

Just the thought of Stiles taking his knot was good.

Stiles mumbled something in his sleep, and then he pushed himself back against Derek, drawing up Derek's arm until it was flung over his head, covering his eyes. "No sun," Derek heard him complain. Derek chuckled. The sun wasn't blinding, but it was slowly seeping in through the cloud-cover outside and the curtains, covering them in morning half-light.

He used his leverage to scrape his stubble along Stiles' shoulder, and then his cheek. Stiles squawked, coming awake instantly, slapping at Derek's face half-heartedly. "Ow," he said in the middle of the flailing, freezing them both. "Ow, ow , ow."

"What is it? What's wrong." He turned Stiles over, hovering above him face to face, eyes darting from his torso and down to check for signs of injury.

"Sore," Stiles said, lips curving into a smile as Derek watched. "Someone gave me a really good fucking last night," he teased, wrapping his arms around Derek's neck, drawing them in closer together.

"Did he, now?" Derek mused, returning the smile. He allowed himself to be drawn down by Stiles, until he was flush against him again, and then it was a natural thing for their lips to meet. The kiss was sweet, almost like new.

Sweet quickly turned into needy, as Derek kissed him harder. Then Stiles was huffing laughter into his mouth when he could. He pulled back, confused.

"Yeah, I see you're excited, Big Boy," Stiles explained, eyes twinkling. Derek knew he was referring to the half-hard length of his cock pressed against Stiles' thigh. "Just thought to inform you that I am not a werewolf with magical werewolf healing powers? So that's not going inside me anytime soon." 

Though his eyes were mischievous, there was something behind them, something that Derek had come to recognize as worry. He was worried of how Derek would react, how Derek would feel about a human boy and was he enough?  Was he enough for an alpha wolf, for Derek?

Stiles was enough, though. He was enough, and then some. Derek loved him  _so much;_ he didn't know how not to. Suddenly he had to look, he had to feel and  _see_.

Stiles flinched against him at the first ghostly skim of the pads of Derek's fingers over his hole. He was hot there, still, healing and tender. "Oh," Stiles breathed, curling against Derek. His arms tightened with almost bruising force - if Derek's hadn't been a were, anyway - around Derek's neck when he touched him there again, more insistent. He dragged one finger over him with Stiles' heart hammering against his chest, his breath hot in his ear. Stiles' knees had come up on either side of Derek almost reflexively, so that he could fit himself into the space between Stiles' legs.

Then he drew himself up and down the length of Stiles' body. He put his broad hands on the backs of Stiles' thighs and held him open, and then he licked at the abused skin. Stiles drew in a shuddering breath, back arching just a little. He was right; it was still red and puffy and stretched out. Even now he could slide two fingers in almost without any assistance, but he didn't dare to, because it would probably hurt. 

So he licked at him, into him, around him, until Stiles was red-faced and limber again, and this time when he came it was much quieter, and Derek could lick the sticky seed from Stiles' stomach. 

"No more," Stiles protested when Derek's stubble grazed his belly for the third time, making him twitch. "Oh, god. No more." Derek kissed him. "Shower," Stiles insisted. "This is not a request."

Stiles' legs didn't work quite the way he wanted them to the first time he tried to stand, but eventually they did make it to the shower, together.

.

It seemed a little thing, after Stiles took his knot, but Derek wanted to do him right by human rituals, too.

The ring wasn't his, but it was Stiles' grandmother's. He didn't have any heirlooms of his own family left, and when he'd asked the sheriff he hadn't even gotten any threats to his welfare if Derek were to hurt his only son. They both knew that, with all the hurting they had both done in the past, Derek couldn't even fathom it.

They also both knew that Stiles would say yes, but it didn't make the anticipation any easier to endure.

"Well?" Derek asked him from where he was kneeling at Stiles' feet, the ring in his hand. They were all in New York for Lydia's birthday party - Lydia had  _flown them all in_  - and she had even orchestrated this whole thing, so that they could have this moment on the Brooklyn Bridge, with everyone in the crowd around them holding multi-colored balloons as they waited with Derek. Derek had no idea how she did it, but Lydia was Lydia and he had learned it was better to just let her be.

"Hang on," Stiles said, and Derek's heart stopped. Maybe it wasn't such a sure thing. "Hang on; I'm remembering this exact moment for longevity. Do you think I should take a picture? Instagram this? Hashtag-proposal?"

He smiled. It lit up Derek's world. 

"Just take the damn ring," Derek said, "before I change my mind."

Stiles held out his hand, waggling his fingers. "No take-backs," he said.

"No," Derek said, and slid the ring on. 

The crowd collectively let go of their balloons, filling the sky with color.

.

**Author's Note:**

>  _But love the one you hold_  
>  _And I'll be your goal_  
>  _To have and to hold_  
>  _A lover of the light_  
>  -Mumford & Sons, _Lover of the Light_
> 
> I'm on tumblr: [fic](andnowforyaya.tumblr.com) and [flail](paperkrane.tumblr.com).


End file.
